


Dinner Party

by SerSparklefingers



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 17:07:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4271214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerSparklefingers/pseuds/SerSparklefingers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders decides to keep Hawke entertained during one of Leandra's boring dinner parties.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dinner Party

**Author's Note:**

> I'll be posting this shortly on my tumblr account ser-sparklefingers.tumblr.com! Check it out if you're interested in more short stories like this.

Hawke sighed a third time as the ridiculous, frilly necktie once again came apart between his fingers. He glowered at his reflection in the mirror, wishing he were anywhere but the estate, about to attend another of his mother’s ridiculous dinner parties.

“It wouldn’t kill you to ask for help, love.” Came the voice of a very smug mage who was leaning casually against the bedpost, already dressed in the borrowed finery.

“You know I have no interest in mother’s parties. She has too much fun trying to play the matchmaker when I’m already spoken for.” He grinned at Anders through the mirror, tossing the lace monstrosity over his shoulder and trying to straighten his stiff dinner jacket.

Anders pushed himself away from where he had been lazily watching Hawke fuss over himself for the last fifteen or so minutes, spun him around, and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. “As long as you remember that, I don’t mind sitting through another irrelevant hunting story from ‘Lord so-and-so’ at ‘Chateau such-and-such’. Plus we get to eat a decent meal.” He laughed, straightening Hawke’s collar for him, undoing a button on the freshly pressed shirt to reveal a hint of the thatch of hair that covered his lover’s chest.

“And I get to see you all dressed up.” Hawke smiled, giving his lover an appreciative once over. Hawke didn’t dislike Anders’ usual feathery attire, it suited the man. However, Hawke couldn’t deny that he had never thought Anders so handsome as he did at that moment. The suit was a gift from himself, which Anders resented greatly and constantly complained that Hawke didn’t have to buy him frivolous gifts. But it was a gift all on its own to see Anders in a finely cut suit that managed to make his wiry frame look more elegant than gangly, with fine doeskin breeches that shaped his legs and matched the beautiful and expensive leather boots that added just the slightest bit of height to Ander’s already towering frame. It was all he could do to keep his hands off him…

“Sorry love, but I do believe we’re going to be late and receive a scolding from your mother.” Anders grinned, twisting away from Hawke’s wandering hands and making his way to the door. “It’s only a few hours of our time.”

Hawke groaned at the thought of spending a mere five minutes in the presence of a few stuffy nobles, let alone a few hours. “Alright, I’m coming. Although…” he trailed off, pulling Anders close and giving him a lingering kiss, one that left the mage red faced and slightly dazed, ‘We’ll finish this later.” He grinned, making his way to the dining room with Anders trailing behind him.

 

*

Dinner was a monotonous affair. Lord and Lady Morrard with their rather pretty but decidedly vapid daughter Helena had arrived fashionably late, a pointless custom Hawke had never understood, and regaled them all with tales of their recent trip to Orlais. The fine Antivan wine wasn’t enough to compensate for longwinded stories of successful business ventures from Lord Morrard and Hawke had to fight not to run to the dinner table in an attempt at escape once the dinner bell rang. 

And of course mother dearest had thought it a wonderful idea that Hawke should sit next to Helena and as far away from Anders as possible. He only just managed to fix a grin on his face as Helena launched in to a story about some frivolous gossip he really had no interest in. Hawke almost choked on his wine when he felt the slight pressure of what had to be a grip on his cock. He cleared his throat, once again trying to look as though he were paying attention to Helena’s seemingly endless story. It was only when he felt a current of force coiling round his balls, squeezing gently and beginning a rippling motion that worked up and down his rapidly hardening length that he glanced at Anders out of the corner of his eye. 

The mage in question seemed to be making pleasant conversation with Lord Morrard. Or rather, Lord Morrard was talking at him and Anders was nodding and laughing when appropriate, charming his way in to the man’s good graces for no other reason than to irritate Leandra, no doubt. Yet quick as a whip, Anders glanced over at Hawke and winked, before laughing prettily at Lord Morrard’s story.

Hawke swallowed hard, resting his chin on his hand and turning his attention to Helena, hoping to ignore the alien sensation between his legs. It all became too much, however, when the strange force began probing between his thighs, the sensation intensifying with each passing moment. He was starting to sweat now, the room had become far too hot and his clothes were stifling. It was only when Helena remarked at how incredibly flushed he had become that Anders’ paid him any attention, sending him only a provocative glance and a slight, barely noticeable twitch of his fingers before the pressure disappeared. 

Hawke took a few deep breaths before his heart stopped hammering in his chest and his pulse returned to normal. The rest of the evening was going to be torturous, but he would bide his time until he could get the apostate on his own. He was going to take pains with him for his teasing.

*

Anders had beat a hasty retreat to Hawke’s room after drinks had been served after dessert, claiming an awful headache. Hawke didn’t miss the smirk thrown his way as he disappeared up the stairs. It didn’t matter. Hawke was clinging to thoughts of a thorough payback for Anders’ teasing. However, once all the appropriate niceties and goodbyes were over and done with, nothing stopped him from tearing up the staircase to find is mage.

Anders was propped up by a few of the overstuffed pillows on Hawke’s bed, clad in nothing but the doeskin breeches, and lazily glancing through a book. His honey coloured eyes fixed Hawke with an impish grin, no doubt calling to mind the flushed and desperate expression he had worn at the dinner table not only an hour before. “Something the matter, love?” he asked, placing the book on the bedside table and sauntering over to his lover.

“You fucking cocktease.” Hawke breathed, and in a flurry of movement had Anders slammed against the wall, hard body grinding painfully against Anders’ as the blond wrapped his legs around his lover’s hips. Hawke needed the friction, hand finding Anders’ prick and gripping it savagely tight but just to the right side of pain. “I want you to strip and kneel.”

It took a moment for the words to register, Anders needing a moment to clear his lust fogged mind before obeying, taking a few steps away from Hawke and pushing his breeches teasingly slow down his hips. He tried not to smirk as he felt the intensity of Hawke’s gaze on him as he knelt. It was a game the two of them had played before, yet it set Anders’ pulse racing every time. The way Hawke looked at him with such reverence and longing almost made his heart ache. He waited for Hawke to undress, eagerly anticipating his touch and was rewarded when he felt the heat of the man’s skin as he knelt behind him, stubble scraping his shoulder as Hawke placed kisses along his back. Anders went willingly as Hawke pushed him forward, bracing himself on his hands and knees as he felt the press of an oil slicked finger sliding in to his body, one hand finger-fucking him with practised finesse while the other trailed lazily over his thigh. Hawke was working fast, neither the two of them having the patience to draw things out, yet Anders still gasped at the loss once the fingers were withdrawn. 

Anders knelt, taught as a bowstring with anticipation and thighs quivering slightly. He jumped as Hawke shoved his legs apart, whimpering as Hawke’s slick cock teased his entrance before finally pushing past the ring of tight muscle and burying himself to the hilt. The two stayed that way for a moment, panting and adjusting before a whispered ‘please’ escaped Anders’ lips.

“Please? I don’t really think you’re in a position to make demands.” Hawke thrust as he spoke, hard and unyielding, and Anders squirmed, twisting his back at the invasion and unable to stop himself from crying out. Hawke pulled his lover flush against him, back to chest, fully utilizing his strength against the blond’s skinny frame and taking him roughly. Anders felt the blood pounding in his temples at the awareness of the slide and burn of penetration and jolting impact of each thrust of his lover’s hips.

“I think you should apologize.” Hawke breathed hotly against the back of his neck, letting out a breathy chuckle as Anders began chanting a litany of ‘I’m sorry’, voice shaky and breaking every so often as Hawke continued his assault. Pleased with Anders’ compliance, however, Hawke decided the man had apologised prettily enough and gripped the blond’s cock at last, the friction sending him completely over the edge. Anders’ back bowed, arms coming back to grab at Hawke’s shoulders with enough force to leave bloody little crescents where his nails had broke the skin. Every candle in the room bent in on itself as Anders reached his climax, the fire in the grate blazing and crackling dangerously for a moment. Hawke thrust again and again to the accompaniment of Anders’ breathy whimpers as his oversensitive hole continued to be used until Hawke hit his own climax, muffling a shout as he bit hard in to Anders’ shoulder and flooded the blond hotly with his seed. 

Hawke fell forward, catching Anders before he could hit the floor, and gently pulled out, rolling to the side so as not to crush the frailer man.  
“I’m glad you’re a healer because you wont believe the mark on your shoulder.”

“Hmm?” Anders hummed, glancing off to the side at the long mirror propped in the corner of the room. He was sweaty and flushed, loose strands of hair plastering themselves to his forehead, with an angry bite mark dominating the junction between collarbone and neck.

“You look enticingly whorish.” Hawke chuckled, wrapping his arms around Anders’ waist and soothing the bite by laving his tongue over it and sucking.

“Thank you.” Anders laughed, laying his head back against Hawke’s chest and breathing deeply as the last remnants of adrenaline left his system, leaving him sluggish and content. “Although, if you were trying to teach me a lesson for my transgressions at dinner, you’ve only succeeded in spurring me on to do more.”

“Hmm, at the moment I can’t bring myself to care.” Hawke laughed, tugging Anders to his feet and guiding him to bed. “We’ll discuss it more in the morning.”


End file.
